The Klingon Art of War

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

  When Klingons made first contact with the Romulans, it was immediately cause for war. This is hardly surprising, as both nations are empires that thrive on conquest. In their first engagement, the Klingon ship and the Romulan ship destroyed each other. There were dozens of skirmishes after that, but the two that matter to the Trill’s question, and to this precept, were the battles at Gamma Eridon and Devron.

  At the former location, a Romulan warship engaged a Klingon vessel captained by the legendary Commander Mozam. The battle was mighty, the inhabitants of Gamma Eridon watching from the ground as the two vessels engaged in an epic confrontation above their world. Eventually, Mozam gained the upper hand when he disabled the shields of the Romulan ship. But as Mozam moved in to ensnare the Romulan vessel in a tractor beam, the Romulan commander set off his missiles in their tubes without firing them, causing the ship to explode.

  The battle in the Devron system was between two armadas. Our people sent a fleet led by Captain Korga to fight a fleet of Romulan Birds of Prey. The Romulan commander was victorious, destroying four of the ships in the Klingon fleet and losing only one ship from his own. Realizing the battle could not be won, Korga ordered his last two ships to ram the Romulan flagship, obliterating all three.

  Romulans will fall on their swords because they believe suicide preferable to capture. The end is proper, but their means are wasteful. At Gamma Eridon, the Romulans destroyed themselves. At Devron, the Klingons destroyed their enemies as well as themselves. In both cases, capture was avoided, which is to the good, but far better to avoid capture in a way that damages your enemies as well. When Romulans see that defeat is inevitable, they will remove themselves from the field of battle by means of suicide rather than risk capture. When Klingons see that defeat is inevitable, they keep fighting and do not give up until they are dead or victorious (or both). It is as they say: Every true warrior’s dying wish is to have struck but once more. It is that striving, that relentless march toward victory, that sets Klingons apart from all others.

  Not all Klingon warriors follow this precept. Indeed, if every Klingon followed every precept, there would be no need for this volume. One of the most despicable examples of a warrior turning his back on the principle of the eighth precept was Captain Worik. While conducting a mission to sabotage a Federation relay station with the aim of preventing them from listening in on our communications, Worik’s Bird-of-Prey was defeated by a Starfleet vessel. To the shock of his crew, Worik surrendered rather than see his vessel destroyed. The Starfleet captain took him prisoner and interrogated him. In exchange for the freedom of his ten surviving crew (one had died in the battle), Worik offered the Federation intelligence regarding a planned attack on Ardan IV.

  The Federation had only just formed, and its founding was viewed as a black day in the Empire. The Earthers, Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites were now united, and one strong enemy is far more dangerous than four weak ones. The High Council was determined to prevent the Federation’s expansion into worlds desired by the Empire, and the attack on Ardan IV was to be the opening salvo in an all-out campaign against Starfleet.

  But because Worik was a coward who put the lives of his crew over the good of the Empire—as though his crew would have agreed to the lessening of their worth, the reduction of their status from warrior to mere survivor—he gave aid and comfort to the enemy by revealing the details of the attack on Ardan IV. What should have been a victory was instead a defeat at the hands of the three Starfleet vessels hastily diverted to defend that outpost. Tellingly, the three ship captains who led that attack did not allow themselves to be captured. One captain’s ship was destroyed in combat, and the other two plunged their vessels into the surface of Ardan IV, rendering it uninhabitable forevermore. Worik’s crew were all returned to the Empire, but, to a warrior, they committed Mauk-to’Vor rather than continue to live with their commanding officer’s dishonor, a blot that stained them as well. Worik himself spent the rest of his life in a Federation prison, eventually dying of old age. A fittingly ignoble end for such a dishonorable wretch!

  Sometimes a foe will capture enemies and prevent them from dying. At the time that qeS’a’ was first set down, the energy weapon had not yet been developed. That technology changed the rules of warfare. Aside from the fact that it increased the number of people who could do battle—one need not have skill with a blade to fight, only the ability to aim—it also meant that one could incapacitate without killing. This is necessary when battling in the empty sky of space, for the warrior who wields a blade in a breathless vacuum cannot wage war for long.

  But the development of weapons for spacefaring vessels led to handheld versions of the same, and once a technology is introduced it cannot be eliminated. The ramjep hatchling cannot be put back in its egg. While most warriors prefer the heft and honest majesty of a bat’leth, or the swift and elegant strokes of a mek’leth, or the simple and direct fierceness of a d’k tahg, the Galaxy is not always so sensible. And only a fool brings a d’k tahg to a disruptor fight. This change in warfare meant that warriors could be taken prisoner against their will, insensate.

  One warrior to whom this happened was a lieutenant named M’Raq. A good soldier, M’Raq served for many years with distinction in the Defense Force. While serving on the I.K.S. HoH, M’Raq was captured by a Romulan fleet that attacked a communications relay in deep space near the Beta Lankal system. The Romulans had boarded the relay station, and M’Raq led the party that beamed over to stop them. But the HoH was destroyed and M’Raq and his soldiers were repelled. The Romulans used their disruptors on a setting that incapacitated without killing, leading to the capture of M’Raq and several of his warriors.

  For many turns, M’Raq was kept a prisoner and interrogated countless times, but “his was a roof of stone.” Never did he surrender any intelligence. Eventually he was returned to the Empire for reasons that remain classified, though one assumes it was some manner of prisoner exchange. Even though M’Raq was resolute in captivity and kept the Empire’s secrets, he was broken by the experience. He never reenlisted in the Defense Force. Instead he remained at home and waited for death. The memory of his captivity hung about him like a shroud. When death finally came, M’Raq died, as Worik did, in a bed, without the satisfaction accorded to the victorious. His oldest son, Klag—now a general and commander of the Fifth Fleet—refused to speak to him from the day he decided not to rejoin the Defense Force until the day he died. M’Raq’s captivity ushered in only sorrow: dishonor, a military career in ruins, a son sundered from his father, an unheralded death. When you consider the effects of prison on a Klingon, remember what Kahless once said: “A cage makes the biggest targ small.”

  There are ways to endure one’s imprisonment with honor. Earlier, I referred to Chancellor Martok and his imprisonment by the Dominion, when he and Worf had their moment of tova’dok. The only way prisoners of the Dominion would die was fighting the Jem’Hadar in the ring. However, because Martok and Worf and the other prisoners—Cardassians, Romulans, Breen, humans—were not permitted to die, they had to work to escape. And work they did, and they earned their freedom thereby, and Martok went on to rule the Empire.

  Some might say Martok’s eventual fate shows that prisoners don’t necessarily forfeit honor, but Martok also struggled to escape, which is more than M’Raq managed. Martok refused to accept the demands the enemy had made. While they imprisoned his body, they could not contain his spirit or his mind. He and Worf both clung to that knowledge, which served as their ladder back into the lofty realms of honor.

  A prisoner laboring to escape, constantly endeavoring to shake off the chains of captivity, may yet find honor, but it is better still not to become a prisoner in the first place. After all, the primary reason the Dominion kept Martok alive was so that they could use him as a guide for the Changeling they sent to replace him. That imposter was the primary mover behind the sundering of the alliance with the Federation. Every prisoner is a pawn who must resist being moved by
the enemy.

  NINTH PRECEPT

  DIE STANDING UP.

  “If you fall down eight times, you should get up nine times.”

  —KAHLESS

  Kor refused to die. Instead of falling to the Romulans, he held the line against them, willing himself to fight. Indeed, Kor lived for many more decades, before dying in battle during the Dominion War.

  DICTUM: THE UNBOWED WARRIOR

  WARRIORS MUST DIE AS THEY LIVED AND LIVE AS THEY WILL DIE. A GOOD DEATH IS THE SUMMIT OF A LIFE LIVED TO THE LAST MOMENT. AS THE SEA CHURNS, AS THE STORM ROARS, SO WARRIORS MEET THEIR ENDS. THEY DO NOT BARGAIN. THEY DO NOT PLEAD. THEY ASK FOR NOTHING AND CONCEDE THE SAME. DEATH CANNOT UNMAKE THE LIFE A WARRIOR HAS WROUGHT. WHEN THEY DIE, FOR DIE THEY MUST, THEY TEAR THEMSELVES FROM LIFE—EVERY STRAND AT ONCE—ALWAYS MINDFUL OF THE MANDATE UNDER WHICH THEY ETCHED THEIR NAMES INTO THE TABLETS OF THEIR TIME: STAND UPRIGHT, AS A WARRIOR STANDS.

  THE CHURNING SEA

  Falling down is a temporary event, of no more moment than a muscle twitch. When a warrior falls, the next step should be to rise again immediately. Even when death arrives, a warrior should remain standing. Warriors should die as they live: upright, noble, and welcoming the direst conditions and most brutal challenges.

  Death is a poor reason not to stand.

  Battle does not end until death ends it. There may be breaks in the battle, but the combat endures until there is a victor.

  Until a warrior dies, the battle is not—cannot be—over, because the warrior will simply rise, regain the fury of composure, and take up battle again.

  The sea will ever churn. So too for a Klingon in battle.

  THE FORTRESS AT QA’VARIN

  Kahless never allowed himself to stay fallen. When he finally faced off against Molor, holding his bat’leth, the sword of honor that he had forged, it was a grand battle. This was at the fortress at Qa’varin, to which Kahless and Lukara had led their forces.

  Molor ruled from that fortress. By this time, it was the only land he still held. The men and women of all the tyrant’s other lands had either bent their knees to Kahless or lay dead at his feet, struck down by his growing army of honorable Klingons.

  To no one’s surprise, Molor refused to concede. Even though he had suffered loss after loss, even though it was obvious to even the meanest intelligence that his reign was over, he did not yield. Tyrant he was, but still he nurtured a guttering flame of honor.

  When Kahless broke through the gates and confronted Molor in his throne room, he demanded Molor’s surrender.

  Sitting on his throne, holding a tik’leth, Molor gave Kahless his reply: “Many years ago, I entered this room as you did. A weak fool ruled from this very throne. My troops had overcome every force arrayed against us.

  “The fool on the throne saw that I had defeated him, and bent his knee to me, giving up his throne. I cast him into the dungeons below this fortress, where he remained until he died. Until his death, any who considered opposing me were brought to those dungeons and shown the face of the last person to take up arms against me.

  “But I will not surrender to you, Kahless. You have poisoned our world with your fancy tales of honor and glory. You have transformed Klingons into weaklings who value concepts and words over might and strength. I do not wish to endure such a place. So I will not bend my knee to you as that fool did before me. Instead, I will fight you and one of us will die. And either way, I will be spared having to live in a world ruled by your idiocy.”

  Kahless smiled, then. “You say you reject my teachings, yet you face me as a warrior. You revel in glory and fight to the death rather than surrender to a foe who has declared himself your enemy. You already live in a world changed, Molor.”

  Molor stood and raised his tik’leth. “Enough! The time for words is passed! Face me with that foolish weapon of yours and let us end this!”

  THE TWO VICTORIES

  Before Kortar slew the gods, he fought against the giant ngeng roQ, 1 a creature ten times his size, doing battle with it for an entire day.

  One of the gods Kortar slew was Khoss the Gigantic, a mighty god who had fought his cousin Migmek the Trickster for seven days and seven nights over a joke Migmek had played.

  Kahless himself fought his brother for twelve days because of a lie.

  But these fabled battles were as nothing compared to the contest between Molor and Kahless. All through the fortress, the battle raged, Molor’s tik’leth striking against Kahless’s bat’leth. They thrust, they parried, they retreated, they attacked.

  For days, their combat rang out. For days, Lukara and the forces of Kahless watched, alongside what was left of Molor’s forces. For days, they waited for a victor.

  In the end, both warriors’ bodies were ravaged. Both had bled upon the fortress of Qa’yarin, tyrant’s blood mixing with that of the greatest warrior.

  Barely able to stand, barely able to raise their weapons, they fought on. Neither would surrender. Each insisted on fighting until he could fight no longer.

  Molor lunged with his blade, cutting into Kahless’s belly. Kahless stumbled backward, but did not fall. The sword slipped from Molor’s grip, still embedded as it was in Kahless’s body. Kahless whirled the sword of honor over his head and slashed Molor’s neck with the leading blade.

  The warriors still stood. But even as the blood poured from Kahless’s belly and Molor’s neck in torrents, only one warrior was armed. Kahless swung his bat’leth and severed Molor’s head from his body.

  Kahless won two victories that day, one against an opponent, one for an Empire. Molor lived as a tyrant who cared nothing for honor. He died a Klingon who battled to the end, and in so doing, he claimed a scrap of honor, in spite of himself.

  It is not enough to fight. A true warrior continues to fight until fighting is no longer possible. And fighting becomes impossible only upon death.

  K’RATAK’S COMMENTARY

  Kor was one of the great Dahar Masters of history. His battles were many—against the Federation at Organia, at Caleb IV, and in the Delta Triangle; against the Romulans at Klach D’Kel Bracht, at Romii, and in the Ionite Nebula; against the Kinshaya at Ikalia, at T’Gha, and in the Q’Tahl cluster; against T’nag at the Korma Pass; against Qagh the Albino at Secarus IV; and, in his final battle, against the Jem’Hadar in the Kalandra Sector. But one battle in particular, the one that earned Kor the title of Dahar Master, perfectly illustrates this precept.

  A Romulan invasion force hid in Fek’lhr’s Belt and ambushed Kor’s fleet. Within minutes, all the other ships in the fleet were destroyed, and Kor’s flagship, the Klothos, was badly damaged. Kor managed to destroy one Romulan ship, but in the battle the Klothos lost its shields. A Romulan boarding party beamed aboard the Klothos and killed most of Kor’s crew.

  Kor was near defeat; some might say he was defeated. But he absolutely refused to fall. Instead he sent out a distress call and then, armed only with a disruptor and a bat’leth, he kept the invaders at bay. The Klothos had been his ship for many turns, and he was able to move freely through the access tubes and the dark corners of the vessel, coming out only to confront individual members of the boarding party, picking them off one by one. Several of the Romulans were able to wound Kor before the Dahar Master killed them, but still Kor did not fall.

  Eventually, the entire boarding party was slaughtered. By the time the Romulan fleet commander realized he had not defeated Kor, the Klingon reinforcements had arrived. The Seventh Fleet made short work of the Romulans.

  Kor refused to die. Instead of falling to the Romulans, leading to an invasion of our space, he held the line against them, willing himself to fight. Indeed, Kor lived for many more decades, serving in both the Defense Force and the Diplomatic Service before dying in battle during the Dominion War, the only fitting end for a warrior whose identity was braided with his love and respect for glorious battle.

  All those who train as officers in the Defense Force must pass an initiation that puts their understandin
g of this precept to the test. The trainees are taken to the prison planet Rura Penthe, a harsh and frozen world suitable only for criminals who do not deserve the honor of dying. Each warrior is dropped into the middle of a wide expanse of ice without food or weapons and is told to walk to the Defense Force outpost at the north pole. The trainees are told neither how far they must go, nor which direction north is. They know nothing of the obstacles in their path.

  If the trainees survive attacks by wild animals and if they aren’t crushed by an avalanche and if they don’t succumb to the cold (and, of course, if they determine which direction north is), then they are more likely to pass the test. If they reach the area near the pole, they come across a thin patch of ice that cannot possibly support a Klingon’s weight. Most end their test there, for the patch is at least six hours away from the beam-down point, and so by the time any warriors make it there, they cannot survive plummeting into the frigid water underneath the ice. At that point, they’re beamed out and allowed to heal. They have passed the test.

  Few warriors have ever made it past the thin ice, and those who have were able to construct rafts from some of the thicker shards of ice. Using icicle shards both to row the raft and to clear a path through the water, they were able to sail through the water before it could freeze over. It is worth noting that every single one of the warriors who made it past the ice would later ascend at least to the rank of commander.2 Those warriors still live and serve or have died honorably in battle.

  It is not only warriors who know to die on their feet.

  One of the most important farming worlds in the Empire is Pheben III. One of the most successful farms on the planet was owned by a woman named K’Zin. One year, a tornado arose nearby. Undaunted, K’Zin activated the force field that would protect her crops from the storm.